


Invitations (Demands)

by cajynn, Ceryna



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Spitroasting, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:27:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26037889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cajynn/pseuds/cajynn, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ceryna/pseuds/Ceryna
Summary: To the untrained eye, Hinata does a good job of hiding it. But Kiyoomi is well versed in the attraction to one Miya Atsumu.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi, Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 12
Kudos: 195





	Invitations (Demands)

**Author's Note:**

> before this fic had its title it was called, and we quote: "the sass-destroying fic"
> 
> this started as a simple brainworm and us going: hm. what if we did a collab.  
> about one month and 5k words later... we have our answer.
> 
> please mind the tags, and enjoy.

The beige walls, cherrywood floors and warm light of the banquet hall are… tolerable, Kiyoomi supposes. 

He sighs. He's never liked sponsor banquets— no place to escape the crowds, too many people trying to get to know him, too many hors d'oeuvres that are meant as finger foods. He isn't hungry for  _ those.  _

And he isn't the only one. 

It’s fleeting, but Kiyoomi sees it from across the room. To the untrained eye, Hinata does a good job of hiding it. But Kiyoomi is well versed in the attraction to one Miya Atsumu. 

When they have a moment alone, huddled to the side away from the crowd, Kiyoomi whispers low into Atsumu’s ear. “He’s been staring at you all night.” 

“Who?” 

“Hinata.”

“Shouyou? Yer joking.”

Kiyoomi bites his lip. Atsumu softens, realizing Kiyoomi isn’t joking. He takes Kiyoomi’s hand, blocking the gesture with his body as he runs his thumb up the side of Kiyoomi’s palm. “Babe,” Atsumu whispers back, “not tha’ I don’t believe ya, but Shouyou’s also been lookin’ at  _ ya.” _

Kiyoomi glances up at Hinata, catching his gaze. This time Hinata doesn’t look away, that same hunger now directed at  _ him. _

The intensity of that stare is enough for Kiyoomi to blush. Soft, but definitely smoldering. It’s achingly familiar, though. It’s the way Kiyoomi knows he looked at Atsumu when Atsumu wasn’t looking. The weight of the stare attacks the backs of his knees. 

Kiyoomi wrenches himself away from Hinata’s gaze to look at Atsumu again. Atsumu raises an eyebrow, questioning, and maybe a little challenging. Kiyoomi smirks in return, nodding once curtly before standing up, dragging Atsumu up with him. 

Kiyoomi tilts his head to the side. It’s a subtle enough gesture, but combined with his gaze, and the path he traces to the far corner of the banquet room, it’s enough for Hinata to follow. They crowd around a standing table, Kiyoomi leaning his forearms on the pale tablecloth, hands clasped together.

“Hinata.” His name feels  uncertain on Kiyoomi’s tongue,  like a first bite of chocolate— too soon to decide whether it will be bitter or sweet . His heart threatens to beat right out of his chest. He’s thankful as Atsumu slinks around the other side of Hinata. 

“Shouyou. Wanna get outta here?”

Hinata doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he looks Atsumu up and down slowly. When he turns to Kiyoomi there’s a playful glint in his eyes. “What do you think, Omi-san?” 

“I think…” Kiyoomi trails off purposefully, giving himself time to respond. When he finds the words he’s looking for, the corner of his lips curls up. “I think we should’ve been out of here an hour ago.”

Hinata quirks an eyebrow up. “An hour?” His gaze slips to Atsumu, who fidgets under the surprisingly calculating gaze. “A lot coulda happened in an hour.” He smirks, turning back to Kiyoomi. “Lead the way, Omi-san.” 

Kiyoomi’s ears burn crimson beneath his curls. But he strides for the closest door without delay, weaving through people and tables with practiced ease until he can escape through it. He retraces his steps back to the atrium with the elevators, reluctantly presses the button to call it. 

Hinata sidles up next to him as the elevator  _ dings  _ to announce its arrival. “You like being chased down?”

Sakura flutters high and bright over Kiyoomi’s cheekbones. As soon as the doors open, he walks in. “Not by everyone.”

Hinata steps in behind him. The doors slide shut with a mechanical whisper— until a hand appears between the metal. The sensors halt, doors shuddering back open. 

Atsumu saunters in, presses the button for the fourteenth floor, and quirks one eyebrow up at both of them. “Don’ think ya can jus' leave me hangin’.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Hinata says with a sly smile. 

The tension grows between them as they ascend. The silence is palpable. Kiyoomi doesn’t speak, afraid he’ll break whatever spell they’re under. He jumps when the elevator dings, signaling their arrival. Atsumu leads the way this time, walking with a false bravado Kiyoomi knows all too well. He doesn’t miss the slight tremor in Atsumu’s hand as he reaches for the keycard and opens the door.

Atsumu nudges the hotel room door shut with his foot. The lock hisses into place. Kiyoomi slips off his dress shoes, dips into the bathroom to wash his hands. Running water will muffle the sound of his pulse, which jumps in anticipation.

When he exits, he finds Atsumu sitting on the couch and Hinata leaning against the wall. They look up at him, gazes hungry. Kiyoomi makes his way to Atsumu, draping himself across his lap. Despite his earlier bravado, Kiyoomi isn’t sure how to proceed, so he clings to Atsumu, eager lips tracing along his pulse point while Atsumu slips a hand between his legs to palm at his already half hard length. 

_ “ Tsumu _ ,” Kiyoomi moans softly.

Atsumu turns his head and coaxes Kiyoomi out from the shelter of his neck.  He turns to Hinata, and Kiyoomi follows his gaze. He extends a hand. Familiar, bronze fingertips steal through open air and wrap around Hinata’s forearm. Hinata— or should he be  _ Shouyou  _ for tonight— tumbles gracefully onto the couch with them.

“We wantcha.” His jaw moves, chin skimming over Kiyoomi’s curls. “I want ya, an’ Omi wants ya too. He jus’ needs ta be warmed up a bit.” He brushes a kiss to Omi’s forehead, palming him once more. “Right, babe?” 

Kiyoomi looks into Hinata’s eyes. “Right.” Soft, unfamiliar lips ghost along his knuckles, sending a pleasant shiver down his spine. Atsumu lifts him off of his lap and places him gently in the middle of the couch. Kiyoomi sighs as they press soft, wet kisses along his neck, now reveling in the attention instead of shying away from it. 

Atsumu unbuttons his dress shirt and  Hinata’s fingers trail up Kiyoomi’s shoulders to slip the fabric off the skin.  They pull the shirt off together, slowly kissing down his arms, mapping every beauty mark along the way, and pause as they reach his wrists. 

Hinata watches as Atsumu presses a soft kiss to Kiyoomi’s pulse point. When he sees the way Kiyoomi shivers, he follows suit. 

Kiyoomi’s blush spreads from the backs of his ears over his face, down his neck. Sometimes Kiyoomi thinks having Atsumu’s eyes on him is already too much— but having both Atsumu’s  _ and  _ Hinata’s eyes on him… he trembles under the intensity of their gazes. He’s a moon caught between two suns, drawn to their radiance and into their gravity. 

Deft fingers find Kiyoomi’s waistband before dipping just underneath, teasing the soft, sensitive skin. His hips buck up on their own accord, already desperate and needy, a  blush washing in a wave down his chest. He’s so warm,  _ warmed  _ between people that so clearly love him, and maybe it’s embarrassing that his hips rut up— but the smiles on their faces assure him he’s done no wrong. 

Atsumu is the first to fall to his knees, making quick work of Kiyoomi’s belt. Hinata helps him lift his hips so Atsumu can slide off his slacks and toss them aside. He quirks an eyebrow up at Hinata, who takes it as his cue to join him. 

A gasp escapes Kiyoomi’s mouth. It falls from his lips, a sharp intake of breath that’s followed by a whine as  _ two  _ sets of deft fingers swipe over the inside of his thighs. 

Kiyoomi’s legs fall open wider to accommodate the two of them. He watches as something unspoken happens between them, mischievous looks and sly grins, and that’s all the warning he gets before two hot tongues slide up his hard and leaking cock. Embarrassing noises slip past his lips, little whines and choked off moans that he’s helpless to stop. The sight of Hinata’s and Atsumu’s tongues curling so perfectly around his cock, so perfectly around each other, makes his cock twitch. 

They notice.  _ How can they not, _ Kiyoomi supposes, his hands falling to brace on two different shoulders to steady himself. But Hinata shifts beneath Kiyoomi’s fingers, rocking back on his heels with a raised eyebrow. 

The corner of Hinata’s mouth curls up into a smirk as he nudges Atsumu’s elbow. “Do you wanna show me what he likes, or am I gonna have to find out for myself?” 

Atsumu huffs out a laugh before flashing Kiyoomi a dangerous smile. He presses a soft kiss to Kiyoomi’s inner thigh. “Ya look so good like this, Omi. So pretty fer us.” 

Hinata is a quick learner. “Omi-san,” he moans, dipping his tongue into the slit of Kiyoomi’s leaking cock. “You taste so good,  I wanna rim ya .” 

Atsumu chuckles, rumbling around Kiyoomi’s dick, and pops off to swipe his tongue over his lower lip. “There’ll be time fer that later,” he murmurs, opening his mouth once more— but Hinata has already taken over where he left off, lips wrapping around Kiyoomi as he tucks him into his mouth. 

Hinata feels…  _ heavenly  _ around him. But there’s nothing holy in how he flutters his eyelashes, urging Kiyoomi further into the wet heat of his mouth. The tip of his cock brushes Hinata’s windpipe, and suddenly it’s too much. He shuts his eyes— but Atsumu’s voice is at his ear, low and scathing. 

“Yer so desperate for it, aren’t cha? Such a needy little thing. Ya couldn’t keep yer eyes off either of us all night.”

Kiyoomi sucks in a shaky breath. “You’re one to talk, Miya,” he bites back, turning his head and  forcing his eyes open to meet Atsumu’s gaze. The lazy admiration he finds there scalds the back of his ears, incites him to  slide his hand between Atsumu’s legs. “Just look at  _ you.” _

Kiyoomi enjoys how quickly Atsumu submits to the touch.  He whimpers as Kiyoomi’s fingertips trace over his inseam, groans a complaint as they drift past where he wants them. But the complaint is cut off with a sharp moan as Kiyoomi undoes his belt, fingers popping the button of his dress pants and diving inside.

Hinata sucks harshly at the head of Kiyoomi’s cock before popping off. “Atsumu-san sure is chatty tonight.” He looks up at Kiyoomi with a devious grin. “Can I shut him up, Omi-san?”

“Please do.”

Hinata pulls Atsumu back down to the floor and guides his head towards Kiyoomi’s crotch. “Open up,” he commands, gripping Atsumu’s jaw between his thumb and forefinger.

Kiyoomi can’t help his smile as  Atsumu obeys. He’s  always eager to please,  a trait that translated from the court to the bedroom. Kiyoomi won’t admit to being grateful aloud. There are other ways to let Atsumu know how much he’s appreciated. 

Kiyoomi snakes his index finger beneath Atsumu’s tie, curling it to pull him forwards. “Of all the ways you like to be shut up…” He trails off, his other hand carding Atsumu’s hair away from his forehead and out of his dandelion eyes. “This is your favorite, isn’t it.”

Atsumu answers wordlessly. He surges forwards, lips sliding up, up, around Kiyoomi’s cock as he swallows him down into his throat.

Before Kiyoomi can lose himself to the warm wet heat of Atsumu’s mouth, Hinata’s hand finds its way to golden locks and holds him in place. “So eager,” Hinata says with a chuckle. “But I’d like for you to stay still for this.” He turns his gaze to Kiyoomi. “You too, Omi-san. Not until I’ve finished eating Atsumu-san out.” 

There’s a pause, tension thick. Atsumu closes his eyes and moans, nodding his head as best he can to let Hinata know he wants it,  _ needs _ it by the way his eyes roll back into his head  and his knees skid on the carpet, shifting out .

Hinata hooks his fingers around Atsumu’s waistband, dragging his dress pants and briefs down with a smooth, efficient yank. He knocks on one of Atsumu’s thighs, waits for Atsumu to bring the joints together so he can pull the fabric all the way off. 

The dress pants and briefs are tossed behind them. Kiyoomi doesn’t see where they land. His eyes are drawn to Hinata’s fingers. Golden and lovely, they knead circular patterns into Atsumu’s ass, his thumb drawing closer to Atsumu’s hole. “Don’t move.”

The words are stern, but Kiyoomi shivers at the challenge. Atsumu trembles around him, cheeks flushed crimson as drool peeks at the corners of his mouth. 

When Hinata leans down to lick over Atsumu’s entrance, Atsumu keens. The vibrations go straight to Kiyoomi’s cock and it takes all of his willpower not to thrust. Hinata continues to lick, slow and deliberate, never breaking eye contact with Kiyoomi. That stare alone is almost enough to undo him.  Mischief glints there, conveying a thousand  filthy promises. 

The longer Hinata teases, the more restless Kiyoomi becomes. If Atsumu’s labored breathing and pitiful mewls are anything to go by, he feels the same. Hinata pulls back, earning a whine from Atsumu.

“What do you think, Omi-san?”  He ignores the whine, but the corner of his mouth twitches up into a smile. “Has Atsumu-san been good enough to earn a little reward?”

Kiyoomi looks down to meet Atsumu’s pleading eyes. He shakes with want. Kiyoomi threads his fingers through golden locks and Atsumu’s eyes flutter shut, sighing contentedly. 

The answer comes easily. “Yes, yes he has.”

“Heh.” Hinata’s tongue darts over his lower lip. One of his hands slides up to Atsumu’s hip, pinching the skin there. “Don’t move just yet,” he says into the divots of Atsumu’s spine, and turns his dangerously earnest eyes to Kiyoomi once more. “Keep him quiet, Omi-san.”

A laugh bubbles in Kiyoomi’s chest, spilling over. “I’ll see what I can do.” He tightens his grip on Atsumu’s tie, peering down at him. “You heard Shouyou.” His hips slide back. “Shut up and let us use you.” 

He thrusts into Atsumu’s mouth, chasing the warmth as far as it will take him. And it takes him all the way to the hilt, until the bronze of Atsumu’s nose folds into the crease of his thigh.

Hinata drums his fingertips along Atsumu’s hip. “Hands on the couch,” he orders, waiting until Atsumu curls white-knuckled fingers around the cushion beneath Kiyoomi before he picks up where he left off earlier. 

  
Kiyoomi is spellbound, watching the pink of Hinata’s tongue lick along Atsumu’s rim and then back inside.

Atsumu keens around Kiyoomi’s cock, struggling not to thrust his ass back against Hinata’s face. He looks up at Kiyoomi with watery eyes, absolutely wrecked. 

Kiyoomi swipes his thumb through the tears that have gathered at the corners of Atsumu’s eyes. He considers the tear stained thumb for a moment before bringing it to his mouth and licking sinfully slow. The taste isn’t all that pleasant, but the way Atsumu shivers and his eyes flutter shut most certainly is. 

Soft velvet starts to work around the underside of his cock, and Kiyoomi can’t help but thrust up to meet it.  His hand slides back down, thumb idly stroking the skin beneath Atsumu’s eyes. More tears are wiped away. He doesn’t sample these ones. Instead, he drifts his saltwater-stained fingertips to drape over Atsumu’s back, catching Hinata’s eye.

“For you,” Kiyoomi murmurs, mouth curling into a smirk as Atsumu whines beneath him.

Hinata leans forward without hesitation, wrapping his lips around Kiyoomi’s fingers. He hallows his cheeks and sucks, tongue swirling around them. Kiyoomi’s cock twitches, thrusting faster into Atsumu’s eager mouth. He teeters on the edge, desperate for release. Before he’s given the chance, Hinata pulls back.

“Stop.” His voice is firm and commanding.

Kiyoomi stills immediately, groaning in frustration. 

Hinata chuckles softly. “Don’t worry,” he reassures him. “I promise we’ll keep going. But how about we move this to the bed?”

Kiyoomi tilts his head, considering. “I wouldn’t mind…” he trails off purposefully, threading his fingers gently through Atsumu’s hair. “But he’d like to be used right here.” His fingertips snag just above dyed-blond roots, tightening. “Isn’t that right?”

Atsumu blushes, carmine washing over his face and down his shoulders. He moans, knees shifting on the carpet again. 

The sound is enough for Kiyoomi’s hips to rut forwards involuntarily. His lungs shudder as he draws back, meeting Hinata’s gaze. “Shouyou.” He watches Hinata’s Adam’s apple bob, waits for it to settle before he continues.  _ “Fuck _ him.”

Hinata reaches into the bedside drawer, pulling out the condoms and lube that Kiyoomi had stashed there earlier. He coats his fingers liberally before pressing two against Atsumu’s rim. They push in with ease, Atsumu’s hole already stretched slightly from Hinata’s skilled tongue. Hinata twists and scissors his fingers before working up to a third. Kiyoomi watches as Hinata’s breathing becomes uneven and his pupils dilate. The earlier control he possessed slowly slips away. Kiyoomi can’t help but smile, knowing Atsumu has the same effect on both of them. 

“He’s ready,” Kiyoomi says, sensing Hinata’s impatience.

Hinata blinks. His gaze is heady, and his fingers tremble as they reach for familiar foil. But he doesn’t waste any time, tearing open the package and rolling on the condom. He puts one more dollop of lube in his palm, warming it over his cock before lining up with Atsumu’s hole. “Don’t worry.” He grins, directing the reassurance at them both. “I’ll fuck him good, Omi-san.”

Hinata pushes in, smooth and slow. The movement nudges Atsumu forwards, and Kiyoomi  _ feels.  _ The additional millimeters of wet warmth around his cock, the jerk of Atsumu’s tongue beneath it. Soft strands of Atsumu’s hair in his fingers. Hinata’s rhythm, luring him closer. 

Kiyoomi looks down at Atsumu, drool pooling around his chin and on Kiyoomi’s thighs. “You look filthy like this. Don’t you have any shame?”

Hinata leans over Atsumu’s back to press his lips against his ear. “I dunno, Omi-san. I think he’s being a very good boy.”

With Hinata now in reach, Kiyoomi cups his jaw and runs the pad of his thumb along his lower lip. Hinata nips at it before taking it into his mouth. The combined heat of Hinata’s gaze and Atsumu’s mouth is all Kiyoomi needs before he’s pulled over the edge, spilling hot and heavy into Atsumu’s mouth. Atsumu swallows every last drop.

Kiyoomi shivers. His vision fogs, he’s warm all over, skin tingling with tangible adoration. His cock slips from Atsumu’s mouth, saliva stringing as Atsumu licks his lips, trying to speak. 

“Haaaaah, Omi,” he pants, tongue lolling out. “Hhn, Shouyou, please—”

“Shh.” Hinata lets Kiyoomi’s thumb fall from his mouth. “Good boys don’t talk.”

Atsumu whimpers, but does as requested. His cheek shifts on Kiyoomi’s thigh as Hinata thrusts, enough for his tongue to dip out and lick at the sensitive head of Kiyoomi’s cock. 

Kiyoomi’s spine arches off the back of the couch, a hoarse keen tumbling from his throat. His hands scrabble down towards where Atsumu’s brace against the cushions, digging under his fingers. Demanding to be held.

Atsumu grabs on. 

If the stutter of his hips is anything to go by, Hinata is not far off. Kiyoomi watches with rapt attention as Hinata’s mouth falls open, pretty little moans spilling out from it. Hinata grips Atsumu’s hips hard enough to bruise as he drives into him.

“So good, Atsumu-san. So tight,” he gasps.

When Hinata comes he arches back, crying out Atsumu’s name. He drapes himself over his back and presses a soft kiss to the nape of his neck.

“You were so good for us. Wasn’t he, Omi-san?”

Kiyoomi takes in the sight before him, Atsumu flushed and teary eyed, trembling with the desire to come. “He’s  _ perfect.” _

Atsumu shivers, his breaths hot against Kiyoomi’s thigh. 

Kiyoomi meets Hinata’s eyes, tilting his head over his shoulder, drawing their gazes to the bed. Cloud-white sheets, yet to be made a mess of. 

“Time for bed, hm?” Hinata chuckles, rising to his feet. One hand finds its way to Atsumu’s shoulder, turning him over enough for Hinata to lift him. His arms brace beneath Atsumu’s knees, across his shoulders, carrying him effortlessly to the bed and lowering him to the sheets. 

“Slide back.” Hinata waits until Atsumu pushes himself so his feet don’t dangle over the edge, then dives back into the nightstand for another condom. There’s a soft hiss as the foil tears, a shuddering gasp as Hinata rolls it on Atsumu. 

He glances back at Kiyoomi, offering a sinuously sweet smile. “Pass me the lube, Omi-san.”

Kiyoomi rises from the sofa. He strides for the nightstand, picks up the bottle and hands it to Hinata. He’s not expecting Hinata to snag his wrist, trapping it there.

Hinata grasps the bottle, squeezing a generous dollop onto Kiyoomi’s fingers. “Stretch yourself for me, Omi-san. One finger at a time.” 

Another hiss— then a  _ click  _ as Hinata closes the lid. He slicks up Atsumu’s cock, straddles Atsumu’s waist, lining himself up. He grins at Kiyoomi. “You’re next,” he says around an impish grin, and sinks down.

Atsumu’s moan echoes in the hotel room, and Kiyoomi is sure if they have any neighbors they can hear him. But he can’t bring himself to care. He settles next to them on the sheets and spreads his legs, prodding at his entrance before slipping his index finger inside. Kiyoomi’s cock stirs as he watches Hinata grind his hips against Atsumu. 

“Omi-san, play with your nipples.” 

Hinata is going to be the death of him. Kiyoomi takes his free hand and rubs his thumb along the sensitive nub. He bites his lip in an attempt to stifle his whimper.

It doesn’t work. 

He goes to add a second finger but Hinata stops him.

“Not yet. I want you to take your time.” As if to tease him even more, Hinata’s hips speed up, rising and sinking onto Atsumu’s cock. 

“Fingers in your hair.”

Kiyoomi obeys.

“Now tug.  _ Harder _ .”

Kiyoomi’s back arches, pain and pleasure mixing together, eagerly awaiting Hinata to allow him to add a second finger. He wants to be  _ filled _ .

“Kiyoomi,” Atsumu drawls, breathy and lazy even as his hips snap up to meet Hinata’s. “Close yer eyes.” 

“I thought you wanted me to watch.”

“Close them,” Hinata insists.

Kiyoomi swallows, and lets his eyelids drift shut. 

“Show Shouyou how  _ I  _ pull yer hair,” Atsumu murmurs. “Show him, and—”

“And you can add another finger,” Hinata continues. 

Kiyoomi should’ve known just how much trouble the two of them would be. But with his eyes shut, the promise of being filled is enough. 

His hand shifts, sliding down until his fingers tangle in the short curls at the base of his skull. Grasping just above the roots, he shudders in a breath and  _ yanks,  _ head tilting back sharply as a keen tumbles from his throat.

“So eager, Omi-san,” Hinata says with a giggle. “Fuck yourself faster.”

Kiyoomi does as he’s told, imagining it’s their hands taking him apart, piece by piece. He relaxes the grip in his hair, only to tug sharply once more.

“ _ Atsumu _ ,” he cries out.

“F-fuck,” Atsumu stutters. “Kiyoomi. Shouyou. ‘M so close.”

“Come for us,” Hinata moans.

Kiyoomi’s eyes snap open, refusing to miss this. He watches Atsumu’s spine arch off the bed, thrusting up into Hinata as he comes. Kiyoomi slows his movements, savoring the image before him. 

Hinata lingers over Atsumu, with glazed eyes and a soft smile. “Since you  _ both _ like to be told what to do…” He turns to Kiyoomi, his hand gesturing loosely at the still-open nightstand drawer. The corner of his mouth curls up into a playful smirk. “Omi-san, pass me another condom. I think you’re ready to ride me.”

Kiyoomi’s thighs clench. His hand falls from the back of his neck, drifts into the drawer for familiar foil. He hands it over, a question slipping from his lips. “Where do you want me?”

Hinata eases off of Atsumu, scooting towards the pillows by the headboard and leans back into them. He swaps his used condom for the new one, carefully ties it off to avoid a mess, and taps his thighs. “Right here.” 

Kiyoomi bites his lip. He crawls over the sheets, over Atsumu, and swings one leg over Hinata, sandwiching his thighs. 

“An’ what ‘bout me?” Atsumu rises on his elbows, gaze flicking between Hinata and Kiyoomi. “Where d’ya want me?”

Hinata’s hand skims over Kiyoomi’s hip to pat his own thigh just above the knee. “Here,” he says, reaching for Atsumu’s hand. He pulls Atsumu upright, urging him to mirror Kiyoomi’s position.

Kiyoomi inhales sharply as his spine meets the broad warmth of Atsumu’s chest. His hands rise to brace against Hinata’s shoulders. He’s…  _ surrounded. _

Kiyoomi sinks down slowly onto Hinata’s hard and leaking cock. He feels every centimeter as it stretches him wide, moaning when Hinata finally bottoms out. Atsumu presses a soft kiss to the back of neck, his warm chest grounding him, keeping him in place.

“Atsumu-san,” Hinata says, nearly breathless. “Why don’t you help Omi-san?”

Kiyoomi doesn’t have to turn his head to know Atsumu’s got an infuriating smirk on his face.

“Anythin’ ya say, Shouyou.”

Atsumu grips Kiyoomi’s hips, guiding him up slowly, just a few centimeters, before settling him back down. Kiyoomi can’t help the whine that escapes him. Being used like this is new,  _ exciting _ .

He tries to relax. Goes limp where he can afford to, pliant as Atsumu’s fingers tighten around him. His strength is surely enough to bruise, but Atsumu is ever so sly. Callused fingertips lift him up once more, slowly— then sway in a circle as they let him fall.

Kiyoomi isn’t sure whose name slips from his mouth this time. A keen escapes his throat, pitched high enough for him to flinch at the sharpness. 

Hinata leans up, dragging his tongue over his lower lip. His breaths cloud warmly over Kiyoomi’s cheek. “I wanna kiss you,” he says, low enough for Kiyoomi to shudder, “but with where my tongue’s just been…”

A half-crescent takes shape against Kiyoomi’s shoulder— Atsumu’s grin curves even wider as he raises Kiyoomi’s hips and lets them  _ slam  _ down. “Shouyou, kiss  _ me.”  _ He stretches his chin over Kiyoomi’s shoulder, surging for Hinata’s mouth.

Kiyoomi beats him there.

Kiyoomi shivers when Hinata’s tongue slides over his own, savoring the taste. It’s absolutely filthy, but that’s what makes it  _ good _ . Hinata kisses like he’s starving. He licks along Kiyoomi’s teeth, sucks on his tongue, bites his upper lip. 

Kiyoomi lets himself be consumed. He fists his hands in Hinata’s hair, not daring to let him pull away. 

When Atsumu bites his shoulder, Kiyoomi cries out. Hinata swallows the noise. Kiyoomi hangs on by a thread, pulled taught between their bodies.

“So good,” Hinata whispers into his mouth. “So good. I’m so close.  _ Omi-san _ .”

The praise scalds Kiyoomi. Trapped within the gravity of two suns, he trembles and melts into Hinata’s kiss, folding molten into Atsumu’s touch. 

Atsumu’s arms drift from Kiyoomi’s hips. His palms sear a path across Kiyoomi’s stomach, one closing roughly around his cock and the other scorching up his chest to twist a nipple. 

Kiyoomi can’t think, can’t speak. If he could, he’d be searching for words to match the galaxies bursting under his eyelids, the supernova between his ribs. Whatever it is, it’s too much, enough that he falls out of Hinata’s kiss and onto Atsumu’s shoulder.

His lungs strain, breaths heavy and shaking— he blinks. No, it’s  _ him  _ that trembles from the attention and admiration. 

Hinata snaps his hips up, pressing perfectly against Kiyoomi’s prostate. He leans in and licks a hot stripe along his neck before sinking his teeth in.

“You’re so tight. I wanna feel you come on my cock, Omi-san.” He punctuates his sentence with a loud moan.

The sound is enough to push Kiyoomi over the edge, making a mess of their chests and Atsumu’s hand. He feels as Hinata’s cock twitches inside him when he comes right after, hips finally stilling. 

Hinata falls back onto the mound of pillows. Kiyoomi would have followed if it weren’t for Atsumu’s strong hands holding him up. Hinata looks up at him, grinning wide. “You made quite the mess, Omi-san.”

Hinata takes Atsumu by the wrist and drags them both closer. He brings Atsumu’s soiled fingers to his lips, licking each one clean. Kiyoomi watches with rapt attention. Atsumu’s breath hitches behind him. When he’s finished, he drops Atsumu’s hand back down to his side. “Thanks for the meal,” he says with a wink.

A laugh sputters in Kiyoomi’s chest. He’s too spent, cheeks too warm for the laugh to reach them. But his hands fall from Hinata’s hair. One searches out Atsumu’s fingers, warm and shimmering with Hinata’s saliva. The other skims over Hinata’s chin, his thumb dipping into a still-gleaming corner of his mouth.

Kiyoomi smiles and shuts his eyes. He hears Atsumu huff a laugh of his own, air warm over his scapula, and allows himself to slump into the sheets. In the absence of the  _ smack  _ of skin against skin, Atsumu’s heartbeat is a drum against his back. 

“Omi,” Atsumu whispers to the shell of Kiyoomi’s ear. “Ya can sleep after we shower.”

Kiyoomi groans. He knows Atsumu’s right. Waking up with dried come on his stomach is not something he wants to deal with. So he lets the two of them lift him out of bed and walk him to the bathroom. The spray of warm water is a welcome relief. He sighs contentedly as Atsumu lathers shampoo in his hair, threading his fingers through unruly curls. Hinata lathers his body, massaging away any lingering tension until Kiyoomi feels boneless. 

Once they’re finished, they towel off and slip into clean clothes. Hinata borrows one of Kiyoomi’s sleep shirts, warmth blooming in Kiyoomi’s chest at the sight. It’s much too big and hangs down to his knees. Kiyoomi thinks he has no right looking that sweet after everything they did tonight.

Atsumu tugs off the soiled sheets and tosses them aside before climbing back into bed. Kiyoomi follows, taking his place against Atsumu’s side. It’s Kiyoomi who offers his hand this time, beckoning Hinata to come join them. He slots perfectly between them, like the final piece of a puzzle.

Kiyoomi doesn’t know what tomorrow will bring, but he doesn’t care. Right now, he has Atsumu and Hinata by his side, and they’re all he needs.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading, we hope you enjoyed the story (^^)
> 
> We'd love to know your favorite line, what you liked about the story, or if you'd like to see more fic like this from us! ^^ 
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